


Nightmare

by shutyourjessup



Category: End Roll (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, That's all the tags you get, good luck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 09:49:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8619706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutyourjessup/pseuds/shutyourjessup
Summary: After Russell decides to stay in the dream for much longer than expected, the world collapses beyond repair. Only the Informant remains. This conversation could well prove to be their last, and the entirety of it could go by just as all their others do. But not everything is as it seems. What last secret can the Informant offer Russell, and does Russell really want to know?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Lesson #1: Jess can't write summaries, but  
> Lesson #2: This is her first story she's ever been proud enough to upload, so  
> Lesson #3: Enjoy the fluffy, angsty, gay shitstorm!
> 
> Bonus lesson!: Take a shot every time eye colour is mentioned. Honestly, you'll end up in a coma
> 
> EDITED LESSON: DO NOT TAKE A SHOT EVERY TIME EYE COLOUR IS MENTIONED, YOU WILL MOST CERTAINLY DIE. I COUNTED. I CHECKED

Everything is falling apart. The dream. Russell’s dream. His world. Their world. Russell’s mentality. His emotions. His thoughts. Everything is falling apart.

Russell couldn’t seek comfort from any of them now. Their houses were being lost to the ever growing darkness as Russell’s mind sank further and further into a guilty low. They themselves had all but disappeared, presumably along with their houses. Not that Russell cared. As much as it seemed natural to try and draw comfort from them, it was pointless. They were all mere ghosts. Figments of his imagination whose sole purpose was to make him suffer for his sins. He couldn’t run. Everywhere that wasn’t here had dematerialised into a void; Nameless Town was all that remained, and even that wouldn’t last long. 

However, in the midst of it all, one building remained virtually untouched. With its sky blue roof and childishly drawn posters adorning the outer walls, infor!!Mashun stuck out like a beacon of hope amongst the destruction of the town around it. Russell’s own house, whilst also untouched, was extremely uninviting; the gorey interior, with its unnerving recounts of Russell’s crimes drawn on scattered sheets of paper, seemed more like a hell than a living space. Especially at that moment. Russell needed stability. Russell needed guidance.

Russell needed the Informant.

The walk there was hell enough. Even though Russell took the shortcut up to infor!!Mashun, seeing the buildings and trees and everything in between being consumed by the vast nothingness was chilling and seemed to cloud the boy’s mind until focus was almost impossible. No. Keep walking. Make it. He has answers. 

…

But what if he didn’t?

No. The Informant, though smug and condescendingly helpful at best, was in his own ways, extremely clever. He knew this dream like the back of his hand, for it was in theory his own dream, too. Well…apart from Unregulated Space, but something told Russell that it was for the best that the Informant knew little about that confusing, gaping wound within his seemingly perfect dream. Ha. Perfect dream. Happy dream. How perfect and happy this dream was now. What a joke.

Russell found himself having to prepare mentally before opening infor!!Mashun’s door. After all, he could open the door and find the place empty. But…that seemed highly unlikely. As a dream-projected version of himself, the Informant couldn’t possibly disappear without dragging Russell into the abyss with him, right? Russell took a deep breath, thinking no more on it and opening the door. 

Sure enough, to what felt almost akin to relief within Russell, the Informant stood near the counter he never seemed to use. His grin was as smug as ever, though seemed to falter if only for the briefest of seconds as Russell entered the building. “Oh, hey Russell. Let me guess…you want some information about what’s going on?” the green-eyed boy asked matter-of-factly. Russell only nodded. The ability to speak had all but abandoned him. 

The Informant was quiet for a moment, seeming to ponder something whilst smoothing a lock of his hair between his fingers. “I don’t know why you look so surprised. You chose to stay, and this is what you get. I did try to warn you, did I not?” he chuckled, almost mockingly. Russell clenched his fists a little, looking down. “I didn’t think it would go like this” he deadpanned, though the Informant could have sworn that there was a faint tinge of sadness in his voice. The Informant clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “You know better than to hope for the best, Russell. You’ve never hoped for the best. That just leads to disappointment and sadness, and-”

“Just tell me what I’m supposed to do” Russell interrupted. He was by now extremely fed up with the Informant’s tireless chatter and just wanted to know what to do next so that he could leave. He had gone in thinking that the Informant would act as some strange comfort to him and that his information could at least help him somewhat. He was apparently mistaken.

The Informant paused once more, looking Russell from head to toe, not appearing to actually scrutinise any particular part in between. It was like looking into a mirror; a mirror, of course, with colour variations in some places. His smile had been replaced by a look of deep thought. What he could even be thinking about, Russell couldn’t discern. It was actually odd for the Informant to stop and analyse something before saying it. Usually he just knew the answer and that was the end of it. However now, there was an unfamiliar look of uncertainty in those green eyes that vaguely unsettled Russell.

“I won’t lie to you, Russell. For all my wisdom (‘Smug bastard’, Russell thought with a none-too-subtle eye roll) I don’t know what you’re meant to do next…” The Informant admitted with an expression foreign to Russell. Perhaps it was guilt, which Russell had never seen on his own face until that moment. Whatever it was, combined with the Informant’s words, seemed to strike something within the blue-eyed boy. The uncertainty that his green-eyed counterpart was feeling, maybe? Fear? Panic? Russell didn’t like it anyhow, and tried as best he could to bury it deep down. 

“DreamSend created me to teach you guilt, and I’ve evidently done that” the Informant continued, gesturing out of the window to the ever-growing void. Russell didn’t follow the other boy’s hand. He just kept staring straight at his doppelgänger like he was the most important thing in the world. Technically speaking, aside from himself, the Informant WAS the most important thing in the world, perhaps for more reasons than one. 

“But even that had a deadline. Quite literally…” the Informant lightly chuckled, almost disgusted with himself for a joke so morbid. Russell didn’t react at all. Typical Russell. “So, after the DreamSend operatives left, the dream started falling apart and you decided to stay, I’m guessing they had no real use for me anymore, so as a result, I know no more than you do about where this dream will go next. I can only speculate as you would…” the Informant hummed, in a tone that seemed to bear a recognition of his true worthlessness.

Huh. The Informant really was like Russell after all. 

Russell had to take a moment to process what he was hearing. What was more important in his mind right now? The fact that the imminent ending of the dream was coming at an unknown pace with unknown consequences along the way? Or the fact that the Informant thought so lowly of himself all of a sudden? 

Surprisingly enough, Russell found it was the latter.

The Informant was always smug. Sickeningly smug. Russell could never reach that level of smugness due to his own self-hatred, which was probably the reason he had originally felt such a resentment towards his green-eyed counterpart. So to suddenly hear the Informant so lost within himself, claiming to have nary a shred of purpose in the gaping abyss of nothingness that was Russell’s dream, was a shock to the blue-eyed boy’s system. 

Now, Russell still hadn't quite gotten to grips with a lot of emotions. It was likely that he would never get the chance to. But in that exact moment, he found himself feeling something that, through guilt, he had managed to begin to comprehend; empathy. Russell knew the feeling of overwhelming self-hatred and worthlessness all too well, so he could understand how the Informant felt. That was how empathy worked, wasn’t it? Russell hoped so; perhaps that would make the Informant feel better somehow. 

“Well maybe that’s not so bad. If we both know as much as each other for a change, then that makes us equal, doesn’t it? Which means that you mean just as much to this dream as I do” Russell piped up to break the oppressive silence, his voice quiet and unsure. Again, he didn’t quite know how to comfort the Informant, so he really had to rattle his brain for something coherent and even slightly meaningful. 

Thankfully, Russell’s words didn't appear to fall on deaf ears, as a different kind of smile faintly graced the Informant’s face. It wasn’t the usual smug grin that made the blue-eyed boy want to punch his doppelgänger in the face. No, it was something altogether sweeter and more sincere, which made Russell feel as though he had achieved something. Though it was a small, probably insignificant thing, it was an achievement, and Russell had discovered that achievements brought him tiny shreds of what could be considered happiness. 

“I suppose so. Thank you, Russell. I’m guessing the dream has taught you more than just guilt, huh?” The Informant giggled, as if he had known exactly what Russell had been thinking. Well…it wouldn’t be surprising, considering how technically linked they were mentally. Russell gave a slightly awkward nod in response, unaware of the soft pink glow on his cheeks. The Informant, however, was fully aware of even the faintest of blushes on his counterpart’s cheeks, and in an attempt to reform his smugness and confidence, decided to press further. 

“You know, it’s a real shame that the rest of the dream doesn’t exist anymore. We could have done something fun together” the Informant suggested, smug smirk back in place as if it had never left. Russell squinted at the green-eyed boy across from him, but the reason was unclear. Perhaps he was surprised. Perhaps he was disgusted. The Informant continued undisturbed, “Perhaps it wouldn’t have been all that fun whilst you are extremely aware of the inevitable death of your dream (Russell faltered, almost unnoticeably if not for the Informant’s keen eye) but it would be a lot better than wallowing in anxiety. I may have been a catalyst for the dream’s collapse and you may hate me for it, but I do want to make your last moments in this dream worthwhile.”

This caused Russell’s blush to darken somewhat alarmingly, and he swallowed hard. What was the Informant trying to say? And why had it had that effect on Russell? The blue-eyed boy had to analyse that in his head for a moment; did the Informant care for him? No, that seemed ridiculous. Russell didn’t care for himself, so there was no way that his green-eyed doppelgänger could do so. However…whilst Russell and the Informant were uncomfortably alike, it was obvious that they could have their differences. Perhaps this was one of them. 

The Informant laughed teasingly; he knew he had gotten to Russell. It was all in good fun, just to lighten the mood. Though lightening the mood with Russell -the boy with as many expressions as a wax model- was never easy. “It feels strange, doesn’t it? To feel cared for by someone…” the green-eyed boy asked, almost forlornly. He sighed softly. Russell swallowed once more, allowing himself to nod slightly. The silence descended once more, and things would have felt awkward if the Informant hadn’t have made a rash suggestion. 

“Come here, Russell. You’re too far away” the Informant requested, his voice seeming airy and not all there. That made Russell a little uneasy, but he found himself nodding once more and slowly walking towards the Informant. In that moment, the room felt a mile long; like the green-eyed boy was impossible to reach, no matter how hard Russell tried. Ha. That was the truth, was it not? The Informant -the physical embodiment of a Russell that had emotions and self-confidence and care for others- was never achievable for the blue-eyed boy and never would be. No. Russell forced that thought out of his mind. He was going to reach the tangible incarnation of success that stood across from him, and he was going to make the rest of the dream worthwhile. 

A sharp pain in Russell’s head caused him to wince, pause and close his eyes for a second. That had been unexpected; he had been fine the entire time. In fact, his brain had felt rather numb in the time that him and the Informant had been talking, so a pain so intense and debilitating was a shock. After the pain subsided to a bearable ache, Russell opened his eyes again, about to keep walking, but an ugly realisation kept him where he was. In an instant, the pain’s origins were clear.

Stood in the Informant’s place was a Nightmare. One of the awful manifestations of Russell’s sin, black as the void outside and covered in eyes that seemed to see right through Russell. With no expression, the monster appeared to simply stare at the blue-eyed boy, who stared right back with wide eyes and a slight shake in his small body. He gulped, his mouth suddenly dry. He felt so betrayed. The one person in this dream that had stuck with him until the end, taught him so much and brought him even slightly close to caring for himself was nothing but a hideous, terrifying beast hellbent on ruining Russell’s conscience. This was the exact reason Russell never got his hopes up. That only led to disappointment and sadness, and-

For a moment, the Nightmare seemed to distort, glitch almost, and the Informant was once again stood in its place. Russell was surprised, but didn’t expect anything good to come of it. The Informant’s own eyes were wide and his body was wracked with shivers too. Russell had never seen an expression of horror and pain even dare to grace the Informant’s face, yet there it was, and it made the blue-eyed boy so unnerved that he could have sworn that the entire dream shook along with him for a second or two. 

“I…I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to see this. You weren't supposed to see that side of me…” The Informant rasped, his voice dreadfully monotone. He hugged himself tightly, afraid of himself. Russell, even from where he was stood, could have sworn that those green eyes had flooded with tears, but before he could see one fall, the Informant turned his back to his blue-eyed counterpart. It would have been so easy for Russell to escape now…theoretically. A distrust in his ability to walk, curiosity and what could be considered worry for the Informant kept Russell frozen in place.

The confusion in Russell’s mind was evident in the ever changing state of the Informant, who periodically would glitch between his regular self and his nightmarish form. Though what could truly be considered his regular self anymore was questionable, if his true form really was that frightening monstrosity. That question hung heavy in the air around Russell, but he fought to ignore it and focus on the Informant. “D-does it make sense to you, though? A-after all, some Nightmares would tell you your guilt level. Others would ensure that you knew what this dream taught you. D-do you not see that I did both, in some way?” the green-eyed boy explained, his voice turning dark and ghastly whenever he himself distorted.

Russell swallowed thickly, his mouth still bone dry. Yes, he did see. How hadn't he seen? How could he be so blind to a truth staring him so blatantly in the face with green eyes and a smug grin? It honestly baffled him, and frustrated him too. He should never have even begun to trust the Informant, not for a single second. He was manipulative. Vile. Soon, this dream would end, and Russell now found a comfort from the fact that when he was lost to the dream, he would be taking that foul creature with him. 

Choked crying dragged Russell out of his thoughts and back to the situation unfolding in front of him. The Informant had seemingly stabilised somehow; as the blue-eyed boy watched his thin shoulders heave with heavy sobs, he noted that he hadn’t glitched into a Nightmare in that time. Why was the Informant crying? What did he have to cry about? If anything, Russell was the one who deserved to cry, if his body and mind had any inclination to do so. It was a question that Russell didn’t care to ask, but he still would have appreciated an answer. 

The Informant sniffed miserably, not daring to turn back to see the disappointment in Russell’s eyes. He tried to wipe the tears from his face. In vain, of course; they would only be replaced in the following seconds. “W-well, I suppose I’ve put the nail in the coffin, h-huh Russell?” he asked with a mirthless laugh, speaking more to the counter in front of him than the boy behind him. Russell was silent, unresponsive. He wasn’t quite sure how to react, what do to; and the Informant clearly couldn’t give him any information on that. Not bothering to wait for a reply that would never come even if given all the time in the world, the Informant numbly continued, “You know the truth now, Russell. Th-the dirty, awful truth. I-I wasn’t made to be your friend. Y-you know that. The second you considered being even vaguely nice to me…the dream couldn’t take it” 

Ah. That explained a lot. It explained why the Informant had revealed his true self to Russell. It also explained why, after beginning to once again hate the Informant for his betrayal, the green-eyed boy’s facade had stabilised. It was useless information, but there was a clarity in it that brought Russell an odd sense of comfort. But the ever looming question for the blue-eyed boy was…what next? That was forever his question in this dream. What was his purpose for the day? What adventure would he partake in? Who would he help?

…

Who would he help?

Well that was simple; who was the only one left alive?

Yes. The Informant. Though even the notion of helping him had seemed ridiculous to Russell about five minutes ago, there was a pain and anguish in the green-eyed boy’s voice that he couldn’t ignore. Just as he had chosen to help the inhabitants of his dream with their tasks and trials, he could help the Informant find his feet again as that perfect, dreamt up version of Russell that the world would never see. But Russell could see him, and that was all that mattered. Something mattered to him. Very few things did in the world, but now the Informant did. Realisations like that gave Russell pause to realise that perhaps he should have woken up and lived life after all.

But now was hardly the time for thoughts as pointless as that; Russell was here to die now, and he had to make the most of the newly discovered feelings within him before his time was up. So, after taking a cautious step forward to ensure that his legs wouldn’t give out from underneath him, the blue-eyed boy slowly walked towards the Informant, his shoes making little to no noise on the polished tiles. The Informant certainly didn’t hear his approach, and gave a little jump when he turned to see Russell much closer than he was before. The green-eyed boy stared guiltily up at his counterpart, expecting to see such hatred and disgust in his eyes. To his pleasant surprise, he was wrong, and Russell -after a moment’s deliberation- knelt down so that he was eye-level with his doppelgänger. 

The Informant didn’t move, only swallowed dryly. Russell didn’t quite know what to say -speaking had never been his strong point- but figuring that he had to say something to make things less uncomfortable and tense, he murmured, “It’s not as terrible as it seems. You’re a lot nicer than the other Nightmares. You’ve taught me more than they ever could. Thank you.” The blue-eyed boy’s words seemed forced and unnatural, but the Informant could tell that he was attempting sincerity and comfort, which relaxed him a little. His shoulders dropped; he hadn’t realised that they had been tensed for so long, and the dull ache in his muscles was now apparent and made him wince. 

“I-it’s…nice to know I’ve fulfilled my purpose. I suppose it was pointless in the end, but…it was a personal achievement. For the both of us…” the Informant whispered, his voice as emotionless as Russell’s. That worried Russell again, but he wordlessly nodded. The green-eyed boy stared straight ahead once more at the blinding blue of his unused counter. He was quiet. Contemplative. Russell would have followed suit, but he had nothing that he cared to contemplate at that moment. Instead, the blue-eyed boy broke the silence with a question so uncharacteristic of him that someone else might as well have said it, “Do you want a hug? I know we didn’t get them much, but…they made me feel a little better, so I’m guessing that works for you, too…” 

The Informant’s head raised a bit from where it had been resting on his knees and he felt his cheeks begin to burn. He wondered for a minute whether he had been hearing things and that Russell had been completely silent this entire time. However, when he turned his head to look at his counterpart, there was an expression on his face that searched for an answer to a question just asked. Oh god. He really had said that. The Informant’s cheeks darkened further and he swallowed, giving a weak chuckle. “Hugging yourself in a dream. Where has your life gone?” he asked, almost teasingly.

“I believe my life is sat in front of me, is it not?” Russell answered bravely, his own cheeks flushed with a rosy hue. The Informant fully turned his head to look at the blue-eyed boy, having to take a solid minute to take in what had just left his lips. For once in his life, Russell looked like the cat who’d got the cream, and the almost unnoticeable beginnings of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. The green-eyed boy found that, unbeknownst to him, his own lips had followed along, and soon he was faintly smiling too. However, he could achieve a smile much easier and less fake than Russell’s, so it was a fully blown smile in a matter of seconds.

The Informant needed no more convincing, as he turned his body around to face Russell. To see him up so close was nothing new -Russell often came to stand right before him whenever they talked- but something was definitely different. Perhaps now he could somehow see the soft glint in his counterpart’s blue eyes, or how the thick lock in the middle of his golden fringe seemed to fall perfectly into the space between them. It was an odd experience and made the Informant’s stomach flutter, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate it, and as such, neither could Russell.

Russell let the Informant stare at him for a minute or two; it was nothing new. He could never work out why he was doing it or why there was such concentration in those green eyes, but nevertheless, he let him do it. It gave the blue-eyed boy time to mentally correct his doppelgänger’s dishevelled state; smooth down that one piece of hair that was stuck up at the back of his head, wipe the remnants of tears from his eyes, straighten out his collar. Russell found it gave him a feeling of clarity to do so. It was caring, after all.

But it came to a point where all the silent staring was over, and one boy would have to make a move. Surely Russell would, since he suggested the hug? But the Informant was so much braver and more smooth…The wordless decision was akin to torture, but eventually, the blue-eyed boy plucked up whatever courage he had stored for so long and moved closer to bring his counterpart into a hug. A hug that could mean so much. That would mean so much. A mutual agreement of care and comfort. Finally. 

Russell hadn’t learnt. Upon nearing the Informant’s body with his hands, the sharp pain in his head returned and he once again saw the monstrosity of a Nightmare take the Informant’s place.

But this time, he didn’t pause.

He wasn’t quick enough.

“T H I S D R E A M W I L L T E A C H Y O U T H E W E I G H T O F Y O U R S I N.”

**Author's Note:**

> DUN DUN DUNNNNN!!!  
> I hope you enjoyed that, because I was waiting to write that trashy, cliche ending for so damn long I probably lost all hope in the middle of the story. Russell never gets it easy, does he? The poor kid. Anyway, that's the end!  
> Or is it?  
> The end credits never stop rolling, you know...


End file.
